


Nectar

by PomoneCorse



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: F/F, nothing says romance like eating out your gal pal while she's working
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 01:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PomoneCorse/pseuds/PomoneCorse
Summary: Julia still hasn’t let go of Solana’s hand.It doesn’t feel as bad now.And like in the hospital, Solana pulls Julia down and presses her lips to hers, too afraid to second-guess herself. Julia smiles, and deepens the kiss.





	Nectar

Solana hasn’t hung around the Rangers much, in the months since the Gala and her rebirth, but for Ortega…

For her, Solana would make some exceptions, however the cards may fall.

The elevator opens to uncover Lady Argent, eyes lost somewhere far beyond the drab walls of the base, until she focuses on her drab grey overalls and the beers she carries.  
“Argent.”  
“Birchwood.”

The rest of the ride up is just as silent. Argent’s presence is a heavy weight as always, both in mind and in flesh - silver or not.  
The bottles in her hand clink softly against another, and for a moment she’s tempted to offer her one. Bridge the gap of years and animosity with a gift.  
The elevator chimes, and the door to her floor opens unceremoniously. Too late, then.

She walks out, head held high, and doesn’t smile. 

* * *

  
  
“Hey, Ilio,” she says softly as the door closes behind her. It feels wrong to speak any louder.  
“Hey, Sol,” Ortega replies, parsing through a thick beige folder. “What are you doing here?”  
Solana puts down the beers on a stack of old files, newspapers and police sketches.  
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”  
“What do- mierda. Oh, Sol, no, I’m sorry, I forgot. Let me finish up and I’m all yours.”  
Solana can’t help the wry smile on her face. Ortega’s mind runs a thousand miles a second, able to switch tracks in the span of a breath, but there are times she focuses so much she loses track of everything else. Solana doesn’t know if she’ll ever be used to it, but. It’s very Julia, and she missed her sun so, so much. Too much to be healthy, too much for what she has to do. Too much to move on. She shakes her head, warding away some of the cobwebs.  
“I don’t mind. I’m just here for you anyway. And those beers.”  
“I’ll take you up on that.”  
Solana goes to hand her one, unsure of what to say. Ortega always did keep her on her toes, and not being able to glean anything other than Julia’s body language makes it… difficult, at times. But it’s also been a comfort.   
She’s holding her.  
Solana looks down, sees Julia’s tanned skin against her scarred flesh, wants to jerk her limb out and cradle it close and punch her and-  
“Oh. You cut your nails,” Julia says, not letting go of her hand.  
Solana nods. She shouldn’t, but she’s blushing now, entire body and mind focused on the fingers linked with hers. Ridiculous; she’s thirty… something, not some foolish teenager who’s never made out with her only friend (and supposed enemy) by now. But Ortega - Julia, Ilio, her sun - brings out something fragile in her.  
Something that shouldn’t be alive anymore.  
“Sol,” Julia says, shit-eating grin spreading across her face like the rising dawn, and then, leaning in close as if sharing a secret, “so did I.”  
She still hasn’t let go of Solana’s hand.  
It doesn’t feel as bad now.

And like in the hospital, Solana pulls Julia down and presses her lips to hers, too afraid to second-guess herself. Julia smiles against her lips, and deepens the kiss.  
So, two problems now. One, Julia’s zipped up in her blue Ranger skinsuit, which isn’t easily taken off. Two, Solana absolutely cannot let her reciprocate.  
The offensive it is.  
“Sol,” laughs Julia, lips open on the “o” as she breathes out her name, as Solana corners her against the table, as wandering hands run over the deep blue of her Ranger suit, “stop tha-a-at, I’ve got a meeting soon.”  
“Liar,” Solana answers, and reaches up to untie Julia’s ponytail. “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”  
Julia’s hair falls, grey streaks at her temples framing her face. Perfect for running her hands through it, kiss the laugh and worry lines that turn the larger than life Greek Statue that is Charge into just a woman. Scars she left, scars she didn’t. Old and New.

Solana is enamoured with the softness of Julia’s flesh, with the way the taller woman’s skin and muscles move and bend and hold to her own. It’s not what she needs - no way to stay detached and harden her heart for what’s ahead, the terrible choices and revelations. But it is what she wants.  
Who she wants.  
Julia lets Solana raise her arms to unzip the skinsuit along her ribs, though she does her best to distract Solana from her chosen path with slow kisses. Getting one of Julia’s legs out of the skinsuit is difficult, and Solana has to take a second to laugh when the matching neon blue sports bra and lightning patterned undies emerge from underneath. Trust Ortega to wear her own merch regularly and willingly.  
“I know you like them,” Julia winks, hooking her hands in Solana’s salopette’s suspenders. “I can get you some so we match.”

“I’ll pass, Ilio. Blue never was my colour.”

A lie, what with the mask that is Blue Rocket; but Julia doesn’t have to know. Not yet.

The legs on either side of her waist bring her back to the present. Nonchalantly, she helps Julia shrug off the suit, steps back to let her take off the underwear, running her hands up the newly-uncovered skin. Scars again, a lifetime of fighting and modding and, well, life.

Solana kneels at last, her cheek to Julia’s thigh, and takes her time.

The one advantage to this weak, scarred body of hers without the armor is this: how easily it bends and contorts as she needs it to. How she can feel, taste, touch - and be touched - without shedding any of the layers upon layers protecting her secret. Like now:   
The hand in her hair tightens with every secret she hums between Julia’s thighs. The sort of secret that would make one go half-mad, set ears bleeding and alight flames on the edge of thought. The sort of secret an ex-almost-hero should never have heard of.

One of Julia’s knees hangs off her shoulder, ankle digging at her upper back, and she holds the other spread out, nipping at the soft skin of the bare thigh until it is as marked as she dares, so sensitive that any pressure seems to be the source of excruciating discomfort. The soft breaths she tears out from flushed lips are worlds away from the screams of agony that should be the only thing a villain takes from a hero, but not… unwelcome.   
Every moan and shallow breath shoots heat through her spine, unfurling in her belly like a fire threatening to start again, and yet bare embers to the furnace when Solana looks up to meet Julia’s gaze, half-lidded and focused entirely on her. This is her work. This is something she’s done; and that thought shouldn’t be as frightful as it is.  
Julia suddenly stands upright, spine straight like someone’s stuck a stick up her back with her suit only on one leg, and Solana’s been pushed back on her ass on the floor of a messy office, with a knee to the face for her trouble, she’s about to snarl when she hears-  
“-done with the reports?”  
Oh, she grins. Opportunity for torment. She crawls forward, one of her hands sneaking back to Julia’s skin, climbing ever upward across her body.  
“Yes, yes,” the taller woman mutters on her brick of a phone. “I’ll have them done in time for the end of the week. Was there-” she shivers as Solana’s mouth finds her skin, “- anything else?”

Julia’s voice is steady. Too steady, Solana thinks. She presses an open-mouth kiss to a bruise. With her other hand, she nudges Julia’s knees apart again,  enough to allow her to breathe a path up the woman’s inner thigh, kissing the already bruising skin she left there not minutes ago. The only visible reaction is a hand to her cheek, calloused palm comforting. Urging her on.

Time to bring out the big guns, she thinks, and teases a hand higher and higher up.

She starts rubbing small circles on Julia’s clit with her thumb, light enough to tease, heedless of the foot digging into her ribs. She’s not really listening to what is being said, focused as she is on Julia and her limits. To Julia’s credit, her only reaction is to clench around Solana’s fingers, the foot still in the skinsuit digging a bit more harshly into her ribs.

She hears hastily exchanged goodbyes and the thump of the phone thrown somewhere close by before hands knot themselves in her hair. Solana laughs at the sensation, scalp stinging as Julia pulls her closer; swallows the sounds her maybe-but-not-quite… lover? Girlfriend? makes, hungry mouth on hers, before she kneels again between Julia’s thighs.  
It’s a full-on moan that answers Solana’s lips pressed to Julia’s ones; and her name is the answer she receives when she kisses as deeply as her lungs allow. Warm, the taste of Julia and sickly sweet sweat and her need, her want, drawn out syllable by syllable and the desire that lances straight to Solana’s gut.

It doesn’t take long for Julia’s breath to quicken, the hard pane of her stomach tensing, one hand to the back of Solana’s head. Solana keeps at it, picks up the pace of her tongue and fingers, even as Julia’s thighs tremble on either side of her head, as modded hands tighten in her hair, as her sun unravels above and around and before her.

There’s nothing but the two of them in an off-grid office, no shady past or torturous secrets; just two souls with nothing to hide.

Solana stands up once she’s drunk her fill, wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt.

“That was fun,” Julia grins, and runs her hands through her loose hair. “C'me here, we’re not done yet.”

“I have to go,” is all Solana can say. At least her voice doesn’t shake, doesn’t betray anything but how sorry she should feel about running away. No, not that. She’s not running, she’s walking. Deliberately. Minor victories.

“So soon?”

“You’ve got a meeting, don’t you?”

The look Julia throws her is painful. Solana is weak, knows she would stay if Julia asked. And that same small part that should have stayed buried wants her to.

She leaves before Ortega gets the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day 2k19 y'all
> 
> also on [tumblr](http://mademoisellegush.tumblr.com/post/182799425015/nectar), if you wanna reblog/like it there!


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